


Let's Watch It Burn

by kenezbian



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 18:38:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1521398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenezbian/pseuds/kenezbian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael wakes up to find Los Santos burning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Watch It Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Required Listening: Hollywood Undead - City

Michael woke up very slowly, even for him, and noticed something was off about the lighting in his room - there shouldn’t be orange light in it, not this late in the day…

He stood up and padded over to the window, grabbing his jeans from the foot of his bed and shaking them out with one hand as he pulled back the sheer curtain to look over the city.

Los Santos was burning.

Michael’s heart fell to his stomach as he watched the fire, the center of it seeming to be a gas station next to a bank downtown. He dropped his pants and reached for the windowsill, unlocking the frame and yanking it open as quickly as he could. The night air was crisp and cool, but the breeze smelled like smoke and sounded like sirens.

He absently scratched his chest and looked around at his own yard, blinking at the black Picador parked at the edge overlooking the hill and the person perched on the hood.

"Is… issat Ryan?" he mumbled to himself, reaching for the clothes he had dropped and stepping into them, not bothering to fasten them. "What’s he doing here?"

He grabbed a shirt out of the nearby dresser and pulled it over his head as he walked out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and through the kitchen to the sliding glass patio doors. He watched for a moment, awestruck at the flames shooting up from downtown, and slid the door open.

The Picador’s windows were open and the radio was on, and as Michael approached the car he could hear the radio spitting out news reports of what had happened while he slept.

"…suspect caused a fire at the gas station, then used the panic it caused to rob the bank. He is still at large, repeat, still at large, armed and dangerous."

"Ryan?" Michael called out as he got closer, and the older man turned to look over his shoulder at him. There were dark rings of black paint around his eyes, and they were smeared onto the rest of his face along with ash and a little blood from a cut on his forehead.

He was sure the look on his face was already pretty stupid, but he felt it change to pure horror as the radio started describing Ryan’s clothing in great detail - leather jacket with a large crown embroidered onto the back, black shirt, black jeans, black boots.

A glance into the Picador revealed the black skull mask sitting on the seat.

"The explosive seems to carry the same chemical signature that the serial arsonist Mad King likes to use in his bombs, but further testing is needed," the radio spoke.

Ryan groaned loudly and turned back to the city. “THE Mad King, fucking assholes can never get it right. There’s a THE in my graffiti tag for a REASON you fucking fools…”

Michael felt his hands shaking. “You— You’re the one doing this?” He swallowed and wiped his face. “You’re the Mad King?”

A smirk crossed Ryan’s face and the fire reflected in his eyes. “Of course I am. You expected someone else?”

Michael stopped walking, suddenly realizing he had never stopped, and carefully hopped up next to Ryan on the hood of the car. “I didn’t think you were this batshit crazy.”

"If I were truly crazy there wouldn’t be a method to my madness. Come on, look, you can see the blaze perfectly from your backyard. And wait, I knew what time you’d wake up from your nap, so we should be seeing the best part right about—"

A large explosion sent up a fireball, and Michael swore he felt the heat on his face. “Secondary charges,” he mumbled.

"Secondary my ass, that’s the main show right there. That earlier shit was just a prologue." Ryan turned to look at Michael. "Consider it an invitation to my court."

"How do you know you can trust me?" Michael said, pushing his curls out of his eyes.

"Because if you were gonna call the cops you would have done so when you saw me out your bedroom window. And you know you can trust me because I could have called the cops when I found this under your bed last week."

Michael stared down at the custom pistol in Ryan’s hand, with _Mogar_  inscribed in curly letters on the handle. “You didn’t have to steal it.”

"I didn’t. I grabbed it fifteen minutes ago while you were sleeping." He handed it to Michael and turned back to the city. "It’d be a wonderfully mutual relationship - I steal the money, it goes back into circulation via your drug ring, and you get full use of my services and the police won’t be able to hunt you using marked bills anymore."

"I don’t have any use for a pyromaniac," Michael said, standing up.

"No, but I think you need someone with a little less heart, someone who knows how to… get rid of mistakes quietly." Ryan crossed his arms. "Can’t have snitches, can we?"

Michael spun around. “You know who it is.”

Ryan nodded once. “Accept my offer, and not only will I tell you who it is, I’ll make it look like they never existed.”

"What happens if I say no?"

"Then we’ll go our separate ways. You keep your mouth shut and I’ll keep mine, but that little snitch problem is still going to exist." Ryan hopped down off the car and held out his hand. "Come on, Mogar, I know you. There’s no way you’ll say no. The benefits are so good for both of us, we’ll run this fucking city."

Michael sighed and shook his hand. “You’re right. Let’s watch it burn.”


End file.
